The World

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The wind is still,

With a small little chill,

While I look at the Dark, still clouds.

I try to imagine them

The way no one else does

So they can be free and soar.

But really, they’re trapped.

Sad and gloomy while imprisoned,

In the most hostile planet,

Where the smoke pushes them,

The sunlight yells at them,

And the ethanol treats them like dust,

therefore it is our fault

That the clouds are trapped

Suffering a world

A world meant to be theirs, not ours.

We treat them like dirt,

And we cower at them.

This was their planet before it was…

It was ours.

We need to love and treat them as we do to humans.

We cannot survive without them.

They charm us in many, MANY

Different ways we didn’t know about.

While I look at the Dark, still clouds.

I try to imagine them

The way no one else does

So they can be free and soar.

But really, they’re trapped

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